


The bards story

by Meid



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hermaphrodites, Jaskier is not a womanizer, Jealousy, M/M, Magic, Maybe - Freeform, Monsters, Mutation, Pining, Unrequited Love, Witches, Young Jaskier, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:28:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22041076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meid/pseuds/Meid
Summary: An alternative universe, where Jaskier is head over heals in love with Geralt. Unfortunately the witcher has his eyes on someone else.Also Jaskier has a mutation, that differs him from other men.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 45
Kudos: 226





	The bards story

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise to the Witcher fans, because I’ve only watched the series.

_♪ You think you’re safe_

_Without a care_

_But here in Posada_

_You’d be wise to beware ♪_

_♪ The pike with the spike_

_That lurks in your drawers_

_Or the flying drake_

_That will fill you with horror ♪_

_♪ Need Old Nan the Hag_

_To stir up a potion_

_So that your lady_

_Might get an abortion ♪_

“Abort yourself!” shouted the old man, throwing a hard piece of bread at him. 

“Ouch! Oi!” exclaimed Jaskier when that old loaf hit his side. The other patrons in the pub followed suit, also throwing heaps of bread at him. Telling him to shut the hell up. 

“Stop! Fuck off!” He threw his hands up to protect himself from the ongoing bread-assault. “Oh, I’m so glad I could bring you all together like this,” said the bard sarcastically, while retreating to the far corner of the room. “Unbelievable,” he muttered to himself and put his lute down. A year ago, when he was still in university, he would never imagine to pick up old bread from the ground. Currently he justified it by thinking, that sacrifices have to be made to see the beautiful thing around the world. 

Oh, and how he did see beauty.

When Jaskier looked up he saw the most astonishing man he ever saw. The stranger had white-greyish, shoulder length hair and pale, rough skin. He couldn’t stop goggling at how his biceps was nearly bursting through his dark leather jacket. His face was shaven, his shoulders broad and he had a bit angular nose.

He was beautiful.

To other he might look very scary and dangerous, but for Jaskier he looked more like the embodiment of masculinity and adventure. Also he appreciates all forms of beauty. The lad did notice him before, when he was performing his song. How could he not. It looked like the sunrays from the windows only reached him, leaving the other people in this ratty tavern hidden in the shadow and fading into the background. At least in Jaskiers point of view. The man probably tried to do the opposite and be as inconspicuous as possible. Slowly he approached him, stealing a mug of beer from the waitress on the way.

He leaned against the wooden stake before saying, “I love the way you just... sit in the corner and brood.”

“I’m here to drink alone,” said the man in a deep, gruff voice. Up closely he could see his shining amber eyes. Probably one of his best features, in Jaskiers opinion. The stranger in the black armour emitted a very intimidating aura, but the bard chose to ignore this.

“Good, yeah, good. No one else hesitated to comment on the quality of my performance, except...” He walked around the table so he could face him. “...for you.” Their eyes met and he just couldn’t help it, but shy away from his glance for a second. “Come ooon...,” smiled Jaskier. “You don’t want to keep a man with...breads in his pants waiting. You must have some review for me. Three words or less.” Without waiting for an invite, he sat down.

“...They don’t exist.”

“What...don’t exist,” asked Jaskier perplexed.

“The creatures in your song,” answered the mysterious guy.

“And how would you know?” There was only silence for three seconds. “Oh, fun.” He rubbed his hands together, as if he can’t wait to crack that puzzle. “White hair, big, old loner, two very...very scary looking swords.” Suddenly it hit him. “I know who you are.” 

He couldn’t finish his conversation, because the man threw two coins at the table and made his way out of the tavern.

“You’re the witcher, Geralt of Rivia,” he said amazed. That he actually met THE witcher of Rivia. The called person on the other hand just ignored him. His smile widened. “Called it!” He knew that person means adventure.

**Author's Note:**

> Continue or not?


End file.
